


Just Our Luck

by TheLynx



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Autism, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4062838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLynx/pseuds/TheLynx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Our Luck

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr prompt](http://inquisitorlynxellan.tumblr.com/post/120545548698/): Q.

_Click._

The two elves whirled around at the sound of the door closing behind them, matching expressions of worry on their faces as they ran back to it. The handle wouldn’t turn; it was locked.

“Just our luck,” Alistair groaned from the other side.

Another few clicking noises, and then: “Sorry, I can’t seem to get the lock,” from Leliana.

“Nor from this side,” Zevran muttered, shoulders bumping with Alim’s. He clicked his teeth in frustration. “Is there a lever, or… perhaps it’s magic?”

“Not magic,” the mage said, shaking his head. He’d already cast a detection spell and couldn’t feel any energy from the door. “See if you can find a key or something.”

“You two stay put,” Alistair said, “and you keep watch.” Ed gave a happy bark of agreement, tail whacking the metal door loudly. “Yes, you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

“Just don’t take too long. I can’t imagine the things we could get up to in your absence,” Zevran said with a wink at Alim.

The two humans left mumbling something about Antivans, steps receding as Zevran and Alim took a look around the room, Alim casting a quiet spell to illuminate it now that they no longer had the torchlight from the hallway.

It was a fairly small and dusty storage room filled with crates and boxes, along with a stack of books, which was what had interested the two to begin with; on closer inspection, the books were dry history tomes written by Andrastian scholars two ages ago.

“Well,” Zevran said, “it looks like we’ll be trapped here for a while. Hopefully not terribly long—as much as I enjoy your company, dear Warden, the dust is a little less pleasant, and I would rather our friends not tear each other apart without us to chaperone.”

“What’s to say we won’t tear each other apart?” Alim asked flatly, sitting down on one of the crates. It held his weight despite its age and his armor.

“If you want me to use teeth, you only need to ask.” Zevran took a seat next to him on another crate, less confident in its sturdiness despite his lighter armor. He placed a hand on Alim’s knee; the entire leg was bouncing gently, but not anxiously. The mage hadn’t rejected his advances before, and while he wasn’t about to propose sex in the middle of a dusty storage room, he would at least take the opportunity to flirt. “What would you want to do while we’re stuck here? Just talk? We could do all sorts of naughty things.”

“Such as?”

Zevran hesitated, backing off from the topic. “Well, if you’d like, we could talk.”

“Talking is naughty?”

The rogue cursed his inability to read Surana. He had slowly been coming to understand the other man’s emotions, but the lack of intonation and expression when he spoke was difficult to work through and he could rarely tell if he was being serious or not. “Only if you want it to be.”

Alim reached down to take Zevran’s hand off his knee and into his own hand, lacing their fingers together. “We don’t have to talk.” This time he smiled—a forced expression, but one that communicated something positive.

“Would you rather not talk?” An almost imperceptible shrug. “Would you rather…”

Ah, there it was. His expression hadn’t changed, but the slight tightening of his grip and increase in leg bouncing indicated that no, Alim wasn’t quite comfortable with anything sexual right now, even if it was just flirting.

“Alright, amor—amico,” he amended quickly, wincing at the ground. A gesture which Alim no doubt caught, but didn’t quite react to.

Alim tilted his head. “But,” he began slowly, “may I kiss you?”

“In the middle of a closet? My, Wynne would be ashamed!” Despite his teasing, Zevran’s heartbeat had sped up and he was honestly surprised. Alim wasn’t typically a very forward person, and he had definitely not expected this development here of all places.

A frown. “No, this is tame compared to some things in the Circle which she knows about.”

“I jest. Come then, a kiss.”

Zevran couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. They let go of each other’s hands and Zevran moved one hand behind Alim’s neck and the other to rest on his waist. He leaned forward until his lips brushed against the other elf’s. They kissed slowly, languidly, experimentally for a couple of minutes, exploring each other’s mouths and enjoying the experience.

Eventually they separated. A small, natural smile pulled the edges of Alim’s lips upward, and he gazed at Zevran’s lips, as close as he would ever get to making eye contact with anyone.

“That was nice,” Alim said, hand touching Zevran’s cheek gently.

“Agreed.” Zevran wasn’t sure whether or not this was a dream. “We should try that again sometime. Somewhere less…” He waved a hand vaguely at their surroundings.

Ed started barking excitedly, pulling the two elves fully back to the present.

“We found the key!” Alistair yelled, heavy footsteps clanking as he ran over.

Alim gave Zevran another kiss, this time just a quick peck on the lips, surprising him for the second time that day. “Somewhere better,” he whispered in agreement with Zevran’s earlier words and pulled back right before the door opened.


End file.
